


Fleeting Blossoms

by Darkdorkchan (Raburabusama)



Series: Miki Saburō needs a route [4]
Category: Hakuouki, Miki Saburou
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raburabusama/pseuds/Darkdorkchan
Summary: Here's even more Miki thirst I've written! This is the last sort of pwp and after this I promise I'll try to get a bit of plot into this very own Miki route I'm writing (emphasis on the word try...)





	Fleeting Blossoms

“Miki-san is injured!?”  
  
Your guts twisted into aching ice and only barely you were able to keep your voice schooled into some semblance of neutrality. You wanted nothing more than to bolt in search of him, right this instant, even if you hadn’t the slightest clue where he even was. And you couldn’t do that, now could you? So, you stood there dumbly with a broom in hand in front of the wide stairs leading to the Nishi Honganji main hall as Harada sat himself down on the said stairs to deliver the latest gossip to you and come get you for supper.  
“Aa-a, so I heard from Heisuke when I got back from patrol.”  
Your hands were trembling, gripping the broom handle so hard your knuckles were turning white and with great effort you managed to keep the tremor out of your voice:  
“H-how badly?”  
“Nothing the bastard won’t survive, Yamazaki’s there looking at him” Harada sighed a bit, as if he would not have minded one bit if Miki were injured quite severely. A heavy feeling engulfed you on top of the panicked thrum of your heart, there was probably never going to be a day in the Shinsengumi when all the captains would get along. Or even be civil with each other.  
You wanted to say something about just that to Harada who had no qualms showing his dislike of the “new recruits” (to be fair Miki was doing a swell job doing exactly the same thing from his side), but you did not dare.  
You sucked at lying on a good day, all these sharp men around you having spied your true feelings through your ham-fisted attempts at deception more often than not. You were beside yourself with terror every time you ran into Okita fearing he might ken what you had done with Miki just from looking at your face. So, it was wiser to avoid any attempts at peace making lest your true intentions be found out.  
“The yard is clean enough already, let’s go grab some grub before Shinpachi munches up our shares, too” Harada smiled at you, changing the subject and effectively making it impossible for you pry further. Well, Harada seemed to know very little, too, so it would’ve been a wasted effort anyway, and probably ended in suspicion. You followed him head numb, but somehow managing to follow his conversation all the while fighting down the urge to just… find Miki. See that he was not going to die. You didn’t want to think about it, but it was the only thing circling in your head.  
  
Food was like clay in your mouth, sticky, disgusting and impossible to swallow, at least until Yamazaki slipped in to inform both Kondō and Hijikata (Itō was not present, obviously) that Miki’s wound had been a light one. He would be back patrolling the streets of Kyōto in a few weeks at most.  
Apparently, his patrol had run into a bunch of rowdier, and more skilled, rōnin who had not backed down despite verbal incentive to do so. You were sure Miki’s diplomacy had been nothing short of impeccable at that time. A fight had erupted, Miki and his men had cut down most of the rōnin until one of them had managed to slice Miki in the arm and push him through a shopfront shōji before being cut down by the rest of his men. He had gotten some bruises with the fall, but no bones had been broken, probably the most wounded thing would be his pride you mused as you ignored a leering jibe from Okita. You did notice the dark looks he got from both Saitō and Heisuke at that, while Kondō tried to save the situation and while you tried your hardest to keep the intense relief you felt from showing on your face instead pondering the contents of your miso soup.  
  
The harsh reality of life in the Shinsengumi had hit you in the face again: the irrevocable truth that you could lose anyone of your friends any day, any moment, to a chaotic bout of swordplay. It kept you awake during the nights and you desperately wanted to see Miki, just so you could verify with your own senses that he was alive.  
You also spent the days fretting about Miki’s health, even after you heard the news, but there was not much you could do about it. It would’ve raised too many eyebrows had a page such as yourself just showed up at his room to inquire after his health. You did sneakily try to pry more intel out of Yamazaki, who politely declined you offer to help, and was infuriatingly sparse with information. Miki was not the easiest of patients and his mood was sour being forced to recuperate and relax because of a wound he had deemed “nothing at all”.  
Patiently like a prowling angler fish you awaited your chance to do just that but like for the minnow you actually were the chance came up out of the blue for you, like an angler fish’s jaws.  
  
You were helping Inoue prepare lunch in the temple kitchens, which was short on staff as yet another food poisoning epidemic had left a good chunk of your manpower bedridden. Summer weather was all kinds of dangerous, even if the worst was already over as you were gently easing towards yet another bone chilling Kyōto winter. Probably the cooling weather had left the kitchen staff a bit too lax for everyone’s good.  
You had just finished cutting and dividing the dozen or so tsukemono needed for the captain’s lunch and found Inoue eyeing a tray apprehensively when you sought him out to ask what task you should do next. The tray itself was nothing too scary: topped with a bowl of rice, miso, a grilled fish it looked painfully ordinary.  
“Inoue-san, what’s wrong?” puzzled, you asked, he startled a bit.  
“Oh, you were quick” he smiled that comforting smile of his “It is nothing really, Miki-san needs his lunch taken to him as he is still recovering, but Kondō-san just sent Sōma-kun…”  
Your heart stopped at Miki and then you had a really hard time trying to keep your mouth shut to listen what Inoue had to say. In probably one of history’s most desperate attempts at nonchalant benevolence you chimed in:  
“Don’t worry, I can take it!” Inoue blanched.  
“No, no I couldn’t force you to…”  
“Oh come on, what’s the worst he could do to me? Hiss a few insults?” Inoue’s face was a veritable book of all the worse things Miki would in his mind be able to do to you, this ticked you:  
“Inoue-san you do remember that we are one the same side as him, they are our brothers in arms, not enemies!”  
“Yes, but–” Inoue tried to interrupt.  
“It’s not like you would be sending me to a bear’s cave, he is one of us!” you tried to soften your harsh sounding words with a pat on his shoulder and a gentle smile. Inoue still looked a bit pained, but he nodded, his kindness winning over.  
“You are correct… of course"  
Your hands were already gripping the tray, it took a bit of self-control to not just run away with it before Inoue would come up with a reason to not let you go after all, especially when his expression got all serious:  
"I do have to warn you, he has been in a bad mood to put it nicely.”  
“I’ll just give him another friendship speech if he tries to get rambunctious” you smiled, the absurdity of your sentence making it impossible to stop laughter from bubbling out of you, to your surprise Inoue laughed at that too.  
“Now that would be a sight” he sighed:  
“But you might be the one to pull it off, now I must hurry” he apologised and turned to leave, and you turned to the opposite direction with your tray in tow trying your best at keeping calm and failing miserably. You did remember to add one tsukemono, the best one, to his tray too, before you started making your long trek to the other end of the compound.  
  
With many men in sick bed and most others out on patrol, it was high noon after all, the compound was quiet. You were not halted by anyone when you entered the end of Nishi Honganji that was considered Itō territory, mainly due to the fact his closest associates slept there. Your everyday rank and file patrol men all slept together, but those who were aligned with Itō spent their free time usually loitering in these parts. You were relieved that none of the few men you saw tried to pry into your business, which was hopefully obvious just from the tray. You had not been to this part of the headquarters often, but it certainly didn’t mean you didn’t know where Miki slept. Oh, you knew, oh how well you knew, even if you had not been inside his room.  
The walk was long enough that you had good time to ponder if this were all that good of an idea after all…. A lot of people would see you, and what if Miki did really get angry with you? Tell you to get the fuck out of his face for good? Having taken from you what he wanted, you’d no longer serve any purpose for him? Or that he’d hate you seeing him so wounded and would drive you off in a rage? Your elation started to warp into fear and nervousness, but you couldn’t turn back anymore, you needed to see with your own eyes that he was going to be okay, everything else be damned. And maybe see how his room looked like… and… _maybe_ more.  
  
At the corner of his shōji you knelt with the tray and announced yourself, voice quivering.  
A short silence followed, and you felt each hammering beat of your heart like a temple bell’s toll counting your sins, the moment stretching into eternity. Finally, you heard Miki’s gruff voice telling you to enter.  
With very sweaty palms you slid the shōji open, lifting the tray in and following inside, shutting the shōji after you. After all this worrying over him you suddenly were very afraid of looking him in the eye, to even speak, but you managed to squeak:  
“I brought you your lunch, M-miki-s–”  
“I can see that, I’m not blind” he sounded thoroughly annoyed, you could no longer just sit there in the corner on your knees studying the tatami…  
Miki was lounging on his futon clad in a simple yukata instead of his usual get up. Like that quite elegant composition of exquisite silks, his yukata was no indigo dyed rough cotton homespun piece of junk, it was clearly silk and dyed into a beautifully flowing cloudlike pattern of charcoal grey. Unsurprisingly, it complemented the deep violet of Miki’s eyes perfectly. His left arm was bandaged, though, ruining the refined image, and he had a scratch across his cheek bone, probably from the shōji he flew through. His skin was a bit pallid and he had a hint of shade beneath his eyes, probably due to being holed up for days. And his expression would’ve but an advancing typhoon to shame, you felt yourself shrink and wither beneath the dark look he gave you. Clearly being told to recuperate was not sitting well with him. It was a shame, since you would’ve really liked to enjoy this different view of Miki more fully, but now a wintry chill you had not felt in months gripped your spine. The scowling man was clearly reluctant to continue this line of conversation so you got up to your feet and bought the tray to his futonside.  
“You see, Inoue-san got an emergency and–”  
“And there was just no one else in the entire Shinsengumi headquarters who could and would bring the pissy wounded wolf his food” the derisive amusement in Miki’s voice made your cheeks flare up like they had not done in many a day. At least he was still himself.  
“I-im sorry Miki” and he did not stop you there “I’ve been so worried ever since I – heard that you got wounded that I….” you bit your lip, unable to put all that boiling anxiety of past days into words.  
“This doesn’t even qualify as a scratch!” Miki snorted brandishing his bandaged arm at no one, “That no good quack just wants me to rot in here!”  
You felt bad for Yamazaki, and feebly tried to defend his reasoning:  
“I’m sure resting the wound will allow it to heal so that it doesn’t affect your swordplay…”  
“What do you know about healing wounds, aan?” Miki was clearly just out to vent his frustrations at you and you didn’t really want to compromise your situation further with telling you were a doctor’s daughter and all that, so you kept your silence. Miki glared at you waiting for a retort and sighed when none came.  
“It’s driving me crazy just sitting around in my room day in and day out” you weren’t sure if that was supposed to double as some sort of an apology from his part, he wasn’t even looking at you, instead studying the hanging scroll in his tokonoma. Or maybe his two swords resting idly on the sword rack beneath it.  
“I’m just so glad your wound wasn’t worse” you couldn’t keep the relief you felt from saturating your words, it made Miki’s head turn back towards you.  
“The bastard died for what he did” he replied but with less vindication you could’ve expected from him.  
It began to dawn to you that you were indeed now in Miki Saburō’s own, private quarters, alone, with him. And he was alright, he was not dead and not going to die. He was also very close, sitting on his futon while you were in a very proper seiza right next to him, the food tray there next to you now completely forgotten. And it was day time, so for once, you could see him in full light, and have the time to actually look at him instead of hastily stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye.  
  
A silence followed, one in which Miki’s disgruntled face slowly bloomed into a knowing smirk, and one in which you forgot all about checking out Miki’s rooms in favour of drowning in his gaze, and in his own scent you so dearly loved. You couldn’t really help it, but your line of sight dropped from his face to peek at his open collar and the generous view it gave of his chest. Miki’s chuckle lifted your eyes from his body back to his face:  
“You were ever so worried for my health for the entirety two moments and a half” his voice was back to that low growl which always sent hot shivers running through you. You shouldn’t, he was wounded, you _shouldn’t even be here_ , and you had been so worried for him you hadn’t been able to focus on anything properly for days. But he was right there, and your insatiable hunger for him was rousing like an overflowing river, a boiling hot one, a river of hell.  
You made some sort of a wordless grunt as a reply, while your fervent hands rose to his cheeks and you pulled him into a kiss. Miki leaned into you, humming into your mouth appreciatively, and you tried to express with your feverish movements all that you couldn’t put into words. Miki opened his lips to lick your tongue with his, it sent a tingling current coursing through you, one that brought all the memories of your stolen moments cascading into your mind, finally overwhelming the worry you had felt for him, and overwhelming the common sense part of you that had still tried to stay careful. You moaned into his mouth, moaned louder when Miki’s good hand was on your shoulder, roaming. He pushed your mouths apart enough to ask:  
”So, how is it, was my condition the only thing that got you here, aan?”  
You were almost panting against his lips, his taste and the soft caress of his tongue intoxicating, but you were not far enough gone to have forgotten the anxiety this reminder of mortality, the fleeting passage of a warrior’s life, had been:  
”Yes…” you whispered into his breath, trying to find the words to express all that had gone through your head.  
”Don’t lie” Miki bit your lip, his hand sliding down your side, palm pressing to your ribs, and you were pushing into him again.  
”N-not entirely” you complied, knowing full well how desperately you jumped at every opportunity that had the slightest chance of bringing you even to Miki’s vicinity.  
“Lewd girl” he chuckled, and you yelped when Miki’s good arm pulled you roughly into his lap. Your yelp turned quickly into a satisfied groan as you felt his warmth, his tangible flesh through your hakama, his mouth abandoning yours in favour of trailing his tongue and teeth down your neck.  
"What am I to do with you” he murmured against your skin while he was going lower and you stifled a moan knowing quite a few things he should do with you. Your hands carded through his unruly hair and you were desperately biting your lip as Miki’s mouth licked its path lower and sideways, mouth closing on your shoulder just where the collar bone ended, and he was sucking your flesh, hard enough to mark your skin.  
The clack of bokken against bokken was clearly audible through the paper doors, even if the men practicing were somewhere further away, but it served as a clear reminder as to how little privacy just being in Miki’s room actually gave you. But he was ripping your kimono collar open wider, growling when he found the binding bandages inside instead of your eager flesh, his fingers ghosting over tight fabric still enough to elicit another barely stifled moan out of you. You felt him growing harder beneath you and despite yourself you were already grinding into his hips, Miki moaned at that himself.  
You pushed his face off your chest, feeling quite bold with your two functioning hands and highly elevated position. You put both of those to good use, mimicking his actions you opened his loose yukata collar further to slide your fingers again on that soft, perfect skin, gliding your palms on his chest to feel the hot beat of his heart, pressing your lips to his again to take another sweet kiss from him. His own hand circled behind you to rub your back, while he groaned into your mouth, his own body surging to your touch. The silk of his yukata was slick and soft, but it too was second to the heady texture of his skin, your hands dipped deeper within his yukata tracing the muscles of his sides, rising to finally tweak his nipples.  
“Ohh-h Saburō…” you whispered between kisses and desperate gasps, “I want you…”  
He laughed darkly, forcing you back to have a good look at your lust warped face.  
“I’ve noticed. You really have no qualms about jumping a wounded man in his quarters in your lust for his body” your retort was but a broken moan as you ground your throbbing sex against his erection, just as needy for his feel inside you as you had been before, mayhaps even needier. Briefly you wondered how much of him would it take to ever satisfy you. Miki’s hand slid down to your ass grabbing it to bring you flush against him, squeezing you hard enough to hurt, you fell into his chest letting out a moan you could no longer kill as a wild wave of desire shot out from your core.  
“You’re too fucking loud” Miki whispered into your ear while biting it, his hand forcing you into a grinding rhythm against his body, doing his darnest to make keeping quiet impossible for you. His breathing was erratic, too, to your slim solace.  
“But I love hearing you whine for my dick” you sobbed against the crook of his neck, weeping pussy throbbing against his hardness wanting, wanting, needing, your teeth on his skin, licking, tasting him, it made him groan and pull you closer. You were both spinning out of control, too fast, you completely drunk on the fact Miki had not thrown you out of his room telling you to go fuck yourself and die.  
  
"Saburō darling, are you awake?“  
  
An all too familiar and all the more unwelcome voice interrupted what was fast becoming another rutting session between you too.  
"Sssshhit!” hissed Miki and in an instant a you found yourself pushed clean off his lap and fumbling with your collar panic and adrenaline roaring in your head. Miki was hastily pulling his yukata, that had nigh slipped entirely from his body, into something more presentable.  
“I– I just woke up so… What is it?” Miki’s voice was an attempted sketch of grogginess as he was trying to get his wits together. You saw Itō’s shadow against the shōji, cold sweat running down your back, hoping against hope he would not come in, because there was no way someone as sharp as him wouldn’t notice anything: your face was practically in flames, hair a total mess, skin slick with Miki’s saliva and surely red from his bites, you wanted to pass out, or die.  
“If you’re feeling up to it I was considering we could discuss the–”  
“Aaa, you know I could change into something presentable and come to your room in a bit” Miki hastily interrupted his brother, not looking at you, a cool shadow of fear brushed over you, “been holed up in this prison long enough.”  
Itō made a contemplative sound, but replied:  
“Wouldn’t you rather not have to change all your clothing just for my sake, Saburō?”  
“Nah, I was gonna get up anyway, fucking stupid laying arounf day in day out for something this trivial.” Miki was doing a surprisingly good job at sounding absolutely innocent, you mused, sitting there suddenly in the stiffest seiza you had ever managed, your heart trying to jump itself up and out from your throat, vision swimming full of black dots of dread.  
“If you feel well enough, then I’m sure it will be as well” Itō replied, but you could swear his tone sounded a tad sly just then, as you saw his shadow rise from seiza behind Miki’s shōji. Your suspicion was strengthened as Miki’s eyes slid shut brow scrunched like he was in pain.  
“I’m glad to hear your health is improving” he added, when he was already turning away you heard the genuine affection in Itō’s voice, a thing you had never encountered before, it was all just too much.  
“Yea, yea, I'll be in your room in a bit, deal?”  
“See you soon, then” Itō cooed and you heard walk away. Had he heard anything you wondered, fear gripping your guts like death’s cold fingers, neither of you had noticed a thing. Miki sat on the futon his back to you and a very uncomfortable silence stretched between the two of you.  
  
Eventually he let out a long sigh, burying his face into his palms. He was leaning his elbows to his knees, sitting still towards the shōji with you behind him. A formless, frantic chaos of terror was swirling in your head and a familiar pain was stabbing your chest, desperate to say something but fearing to break the silence.  
“That there was your cue. ” Miki sighed “This is fucking stupid, insane” he added for good measure.  
He was right, on both parts, but you didn’t just want to nod and go so you sat there grasping at something to say, not let it end like this. Then, Miki’s gruff voice sliced through those fumbling thoughts.  
“There’s probably been at least seven pairs of eyes looking, and when they see you sneaking out, tongues are gonna start wagging” he sounded, rueful, exhausted even, to your surprise, since you had expected anger.  
“S-Saburō, I’m s–” you managed  
“No, don’t be. It wasn’t smart to come here, but it can’t be helped”  
You felt like such a naive little kid, and a horny one at that, face going scarlet with shame, and hot tears burned your eyes:  
“We’re supposed to be comrades, why is it like this?” you futilely whispered to Miki’s back, and his gaze snapped to you seemingly thrown off guard.  
“The fuck, are you crying? –” he seemed more flustered suddenly, more than you had ever seen, turning half towards you on his futon. Your tears were falling quietly even though you were trying your hardest to stop, burying your eyes to your kimono sleeve. Miki scowled at you:  
“Hell, if I know, I just follow Kashitarō where goes, he usually doesn’t listen to me anyway” his anger running out of steam, as his gaze wandered, and you meekly peeked at him from behind your soaked sleeve:  
“Told him coming here was a bad fucking idea, those bakufu lap dogs get on my nerves so much, on their fucking high horses playing samurai games, backwards nostalgia…” inside your chest your traitorous heart sang with how happy you were that Itō had made this big fucking mistake of bringing himself to the Shinsengumi, even if it was fast becoming a dirge. Another silence stretched between you two, you were rooted into the tatami of Miki’s room, hoping to become like his furniture. But Miki returned his attention to you:  
“You seriously need to get the fuck out of here” but his tone was not dismissive, nor irate. He did not blame you, and it clamped around your chest, clutching your poor, dying heart.  
“Go from the inside passage, less traffic.” Mutely you nodded, trying to get your body to gear, it failing to even get you off the floor without you fumbling.  
“S-Saburō, will you– what will you tell, him?” you whispered  
“What? That I’ve been banging the page of Kondō Isami, who just so happens to be a girl, behind everyone’s back?” he laughed derisively, “What good would that do?”  
You were sure that in the right hands that knowledge would do a lot of good and evil, but Miki knew not of the rasetsu or your father’s part in all of it. Growing tired of your squirming Miki’s eyes turned hard:  
“Seriously, make yourself scarce before I rip your kimono open and throw you out of the front door” you were on your feet before he could finish his sentence, his words puncturing your heart, and followed by “and don’t ever come here again unless I tell you to.”  
The finality of those words hit you harder than the sky falling down on you would’ve, and you swayed on your feet at the inner shōji, another wave of tears trying to burst out of your eyes, your breathing an erratic mix of barely stifled sobs and gasps for air. You had to turn yourself into something presentable before going out or you’d bring more misfortune for both of you. It took a few moments of unimaginable self-control from your part to swallow the tears and tame your gasping into something akin to human breathing, you didn’t dare to look at Miki anymore or all of you would become undone, so you leant to the wall by the shōji, hands already gripping the latticework, ready to flee:  
“I’m sorry, Sabur–”  
“I said don’t be.” His voice was suddenly just behind your ear, you had not heard or even sensed him move, a hot shiver of fear and lust ran through you, amplifying into a storm as Miki’s good hand gripped you by the throat, palm pressing to against your windpipe firmly. You dared not even breathe, but his breathing was frayed. You felt it against the back of your neck, then closer as Miki put his lips against your temple, and for once in your life you managed to stifle a moan.  
“Come to the tea hut by the pond behind the main hall, after the bell strikes boar’s hour” you felt the warmth of his body bent over you, the strength of the hand keeping you in check, your body wracked with electrifying desire for him.  
“Yes” you whimpered, lungs burning for air, but you had forgotten how to get more, until Miki licked the sweat of terror from your brow, and you raggedly gasped.  
“Let anyone see you and I’ll kill you.” never before had a death threat blinded you with how erotic it was. Miki’s hand vanished from your throat and slid the shōji open. Wordlessly and firmly you were dismissed.  
To your relief and by some mercy of the gods that had thrown you to this man, the corridor was completely empty, and you had a good while to re-learn to walk like normal people walk while they’re going about their mundane lives. Insides of your head were reeling after this wild amok ride this one moment in your day had become, and how it was further derailing your already completely wrecked life, but more than anything a giddy hope sparkled in your head, once again. Miki, he desired you still, he was not going to die and he wanted you.  
  


######  Notes

  
Agghhk, thank you for reading this far xD I just got this idea of Itō almost walking in on Miki & you while you’re getting it on so hilarious I just had to do this, I’m sorry xDDD And I also wanted to see if I could make them talk for more than two sentences, it was fun.  
If you have any comments, critique etc. I’d love to hear it ༼♥ل͜♥༽  
  
Oh yeah and I had one more confession to make, I listen to _a lot_ of drama CDs and every time one Sakamaki Subaru (same voice actor) whispers to my ear “I’ll kill you (Koroshiteyaru)” it just makes shivers run down my spine and all I can think is _yes pls ;;;;;;_ ;, so I had to put in here too xD


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